Heart of the Country (29 page)

Each night they ate together, but as soon as the meal was over, AJ would go to his swag and Wick to the lean-to they'd built at the side of the shearing shed, leaving Thomas and Lizzie alone.

After their first night together, they quickly got to know each other's bodies, learning together what pleased each other best. Thomas was invariably exhausted from the work of the day yet found renewed energy each night in bed with Lizzie. He had never imagined how wonderful being with her could be. And he knew she was happy too. Each afternoon when he returned he could hear her singing as she worked in and around the house. Already she'd made his simple hut into a home.

The morning of AJ's departure, he asked Thomas to walk with him to the creek. They sat beside the barrel roller. Thomas had made a stronger, improved model and the structure had survived much better than his first attempt.

“You're an innovative man, Thomas,” AJ said. “I am thankful for the day we met. Penakie has been in fine hands.”

“I enjoy the work,” Thomas said with pride.

“And Wick has been a fast learner as well.”

AJ paused. The sound of chopping echoed from behind the hut. Wick was already hard at work stockpiling wood for Lizzie's fire.

“Perhaps capable of being in charge?”

Thomas studied AJ, unsure where this conversation was leading.

“You can rely on Wick,” he said.

“And this land to the north. They're calling it ‘Flinders Ranges'. You have seen it?”

“I did not know its name but the area Jacob and I visited had plentiful water and vegetation suitable for sheep.” Thomas pictured the view he'd had from the top of the mountain and the large circling bird. “Magnificent country,” he said softly.

“Could you find your way there again?”

“Yes, although …” Thomas frowned. They had taken a circuitous route because of the raging creeks. “I might need Gulda's help to find the exact place again.”

“I'd like to meet him.”

“His family camps near here from time to time. I haven't seen him for a while but I'm sure he'll return soon. He is wary of strangers. I don't think he'll appear while you're here.”

AJ stared at the creek trickling below them. “Managing all these properties, keeping them stocked, is hard work. I love the bush but I'm tiring of the effort. It's made me a wealthy man,” he said, “and I'm not getting any younger. I'm going to put overseers on all my properties and move to our house by the sea in Adelaide. My wife is happier there. She's not so fond of the isolation in the bush and I can still visit my properties to the south easily enough.”

Thomas stared at AJ. In all the time he'd known his employer, he'd never heard him mention a wife. They sat without speaking, listening to Wick's axe, the rustle of the breeze in the trees and the bubble of the water below them.

Suddenly AJ got to his feet, brushing dirt and twigs from his pants. Thomas did the same.

“I have a proposition for you.” AJ looked him square in the eye. “You can take it or leave it. You will always have a job as overseer at Penakie if that is your wish, but you've talked of having your own place.”

Thomas held AJ's look but didn't speak. He still wasn't sure where this was leading.

“I am sure the South Australian Government will soon allow pastoral leases for up to fourteen years – it may be announced later next year. You need to be ready. Talk is, to make a claim, you must have an accurately drawn plan that relates to some point laid down by the Surveyor General's map.”

A glimmer of anticipation surged inside Thomas. Yet surely a lease was beyond his reach. “I have savings but not the amount that would be needed to stock such a lease.”

AJ put up his hand. “Hear me out, Thomas. I owe you more than the wage you've received for the work you've done here. You've seen the northern country. If you think you can make a go of it I'm prepared to back you.”

“I couldn't –”

“I am certain your hard work will pay me back some day – less my gift, of course.”

“Gift?” Thomas was struggling to take in everything that AJ was saying

“Call it a late wedding present. We can work out the exact details later. Are you interested?”

“Yes,” Thomas said softly. This was his dream, to own his own land. He wasn't afraid of hard work and he was sure he could repay AJ. He threw back his shoulders and spoke again with conviction. “Yes, I am.”

“What about your wife? It will be a much tougher life than you have here.”

Thomas glanced towards their hut. Lizzie would want them to be independent and she was used to hard work. “She'll be pleased,” he said.

AJ thrust out his hand. Thomas gripped it in a firm shake. Nearby one of the black and white birds warbled its morning welcome. Thomas looked around at the place that had been his home for the last three years. He'd arrived knowing little about the job in front of him. AJ was right. He had made great improvements, both in himself and to the property.

“What about Penakie?” he asked.

“I want to offer the overseer's job to Wick. If you think he'd be up to it.”

“I'm certain he would be.”

AJ threw an arm across Thomas's shoulders and they walked back towards the hut. “I am glad to call you a friend, Thomas. Fortune smiled upon us the day we met.”

Thomas had a sudden recollection of his first meeting with AJ. He was lucky that meeting started him on this journey. His own hard work had continued it but he was grateful to AJ nonetheless.

“Very fortunate indeed,” he said. Beside him he felt AJ's body rumble in a jubilant laugh.

1850

“You've got the morning to pack your things and leave.” Septimus spoke in a low voice but there was no doubting the menace in his words. “If you're not off my property by then I'll throw you off.”

“You snide little upstart,” Bull blathered. His eyes bulged and spittle trickled from his mouth. “This is my property.”

“Not any longer.” Septimus pointed at the paper he'd laid carefully on the table in front of Bull. “You have defaulted on your loan. You signed this document that states the property becomes mine if you don't meet the repayments.”

“That print was too small.” Bull flicked a hand over the paper. “I didn't see that part so I don't agree.”

“You signed it.” Septimus picked up the paper, folded it and slipped it carefully inside his coat pocket. He smiled at the fat, red-faced man sitting before him. “You should always read the fine print, Mr Bull.”

“Look here, Wiltshire.” Bull mopped his forehead with a grimy handkerchief and twisted his lips into a smile. “Surely we can come to an arrangement. I'll have the money after the next wool payment.”

“I can't wait that long and I've seen your sheep. The few you have left are unfit. You'll be lucky to get enough money to pay the shearers.”

“Once upon a time a man's word was all that was needed.” Bull lurched to his feet. “I can get the money.”

Septimus looked around the hut. Over the years he had gradually fleeced Bull of anything of value. The few furnishings that remained were of no interest to him. He patted his pocket. “The law favours the written word these days.”

“You're no gentleman.” The red in Bull's face deepened. “You're a blackguard and a thief.”

“Call me what you will.” Septimus strolled to the door of the neat little hut. At least Mrs Bull, wherever she was hiding, had managed to keep their abode and what remained of their furniture in good condition. “Be gone from here by midday or I shall bring the constable to evict you.” He lifted his hat. “Goodbye, Mr Bull.”

The man roared all kinds of obscenities as Septimus pulled the door shut on him. From the corner of his eye he saw the end of a skirt disappear around the corner of the hut. Mrs Bull was obviously well used to keeping out of her husband's way.

He looked up at the cloudless autumn sky and grinned. He had just acquired his first piece of land and it wouldn't be the last. He mounted his horse and rode back along the track to the bush where he'd set up camp and left Harriet. She hadn't been her usual self lately. They'd been a long time living in a wagon. Perhaps a house of her own would brighten her up.

Later that afternoon, he drove the wagon back to Bull's property and was pleased to see his threats had worked. The place already had a deserted air. There was no cart beside the house or horses in the yard. He helped Harriet down and led her onto the verandah. There would be no way Septimus would have drawn attention to himself by involving the law but Bull didn't know that. He'd packed up and gone.

“It doesn't look as if anyone is at home, Septimus.” Harriet peered through the small window. “The house is completely empty.”

“Except for the new owners.”

“Owners?” Harriet turned her pale face to him. “Where are the Bulls?”

“Gone. Mr Bull was not able to meet his financial commitment to me so his property is now mine.”

Harriet's mouth fell open.

“Welcome to your new home, Harriet.” He pushed open the door to the empty hut.

“Home?”

“Come, Harriet, surely you are as tired as I am of being on the move all the time. This will be our permanent home.”

“What about poor Mrs Bull?”

“She's not our concern.” Septimus stepped inside, a little annoyed that Harriet wasn't as excited at the prospect of their own home as he was.

She followed him. “This is so far from anywhere.”

“There is talk of a town being laid out at the head of Spencer Gulf. It will only be a day's ride down across the plain.”

“I had thought perhaps …” She brushed a loose piece of hair from her face and turned sad eyes in his direction. “Perhaps a town.”

“We will have a grand house in town.” Septimus took her hand and spun her round. “This is a stepping stone along the way.”

Harriet moaned. Her hand slid from his. He just managed to catch her before she collapsed.

“Harriet!” Septimus called as he lowered her to the floor. Her eyes were closed and small beads of perspiration dotted the skin above her lips. He propped her against the rough wood of the wall. “Harriet,” he said again and gave her a gentle slap on each cheek.

Her eyes fluttered open. She moaned softly again. “Water,” she whispered.

Septimus ran outside to the wagon, where they kept a water pouch hanging in the shade. He hurried back inside and helped her take a sip.

“This is not like you, Harriet,” he said. He hoped she wasn't ill. They had much work to do.

“I'll be all right.” She tried to get up but he put a hand against her shoulder.

“Sit a little longer,” he said. At least the pink was returning to her cheeks.

“Then this is to be our new home. Septimus, can you please sit beside me?” She patted the rough wooden floor. “I have news of my own.”

Septimus eyed her a moment then did as she asked. A short rest wouldn't hurt. He was feeling a little weary himself. “We can't sit long,” he said.

“You're going to be a father, Septimus.” Her gaze locked with his.

He held her look a moment then glanced at the hand she placed across her waist. “You are with child?”

“Our child. The house has come at just the right time.”

Septimus scrambled to his feet. “This is why you haven't been well?”

“I've been a little off-colour, but that will pass. Aren't you pleased? You will have a son to carry on the business.”

Septimus watched her pull herself up against the wall. A son – that would be something; but it could be a girl and what use would she be to his business? Then again there could be no child at all. He studied Harriet's waistline but could see no change. Many a woman had lost a child before it got the chance to take air in its lungs.

“When are you expecting this child?”

“I saw a doctor when we were last in Adelaide. Six months from now we shall have our baby boy.” Harriet's face gleamed in excitement.

“Well, best not to look too far ahead.”

“We must find a priest, Septimus. I don't mind for myself but I won't have our son born a bastard.”

Septimus paused. He'd never planned to marry Harriet. She'd been goods to be used just like any other possession and yet she had become
very
useful.

“We shall see.” He straightened his shoulders and tugged down his jacket. “In the meantime we've got a property to fix up. Mrs Bull has kept this hut neat and tidy but the same can't be said for her husband and the rest of the place. If you're feeling better, there's a wagon to unload. I'm going to inspect our holdings.”

“Of course,” she said all too quickly. “I'm much improved. I will unpack our provisions first and prepare some food for your return.”

He nodded and left her. Somehow her news had dampened the brightness of his day. They'd managed very well with just the two of them. Having a pretty woman like Harriet with him had worked to his advantage on many occasions, but she would be no use to him swollen with child. He could only hope she would lose it.

Harriet watched through the window as Septimus mounted his horse and rode around the hut out of sight. When she could no longer hear the sound of hooves she turned to inspect her new home. The structure was made from sturdy wooden planks and it had a wooden floor, unlike the dirt that covered so many she'd seen on her journeys with Septimus. There were two main rooms. The one she stood in was quite large and it had a fireplace built into the back wall. Shelves ranged down one side of it but apart from that the room was empty. The Bulls had taken everything with them. It would make a spacious living area. She crossed to the only internal door. It opened into a smaller room, which would be their bedroom.